Nerevar Blue: Prologue Arrival
by Leslie Mertz
Summary: A former felon with a dark secret becomes the unwitting pawn in Azura's game. This is story of Annika Blue and her rise to the Nerevarine.


**Day 1 Arrival**

"Wake Up. We're here." These words were a beacon in a room that spun.

"Where am I?" I asked. I felt rocking. A ship. We were on a ship.

"Stand up." A dark hand reached out to me. "There you go, you were dreaming. Not even last night's storm could wake you."

I stumbled, still shaking. Dreaming. I had been dreaming of vivid colors and a voice—a woman's voice.

"What is your name?" asked the gray man standing over me. For an instant I did not remember, and then it came to me in a flash.

"Annika Blue," I said. I was named for the color of my eyes and a priestess's fancy.

"I am Jiub," he said distracted, looking off to the corner of the cell. "I think we have reached Vvardenfell."

I sat up in my bunk and looked out at the morning sky from the port hole. Coming out of the dream, I remembered where I was—and how I got there. For weeks I had traveled aboard a prison ship heading for the island off the mainland—Vvardenfell— the volcanic isle of ash and fog. The largest island off the coast of the mainland province Morrowind was the arsehole of the Tamriel. No one wanted to go there. The Empire has only recently won a Pyrrhic victory over the native Dunmer, men and women with pale green skin and red eyes…Snakes, is what people called them in Chorrol, when I heard them referenced at all. With its warring tribes and blight, sorcerers and ancient superstitions, Vvardenfell is the rocky island where the Empire relieved itself of its criminal content and inconvenient others. Slaves also made the crossing in chains, while the Empire turned a blind eye. But, stories also rose and wafted around the dungeons and back alleys of Anvil that the shit hole of the Empire was a thieves shining dream and golden cove. I might do well.

Jiub looked at me wistfully. "Surely they will let us go…" his voice trailed. It was less of a statement and more of plea. There was a sound of hopefulness in his voice, then fear. "Quiet. Here comes the guard."

I heard his heavy step approach.

"Get up and get yourself on deck and let's make this as civil as possible," spat the Imperial. Civility. What did this bastard know about civility? I had felt the back of his hand on more then one occasion during the trip. Yet I didn't have time to think about my hatred and I certainly did not voice it. I just walked behind him in trance toward the cabin door toward freedom.

Briefly, I spoke with a nameless guard and was lead to a worn looking Ergalla, a clerk of the Census and Excise Office who had probably seen thousands come and go, barely looked up from his papers."You were born in the 3rd Era, year 407 on the 27th day of the Morning Star, and, let's see, what is your trade?"

Embarrassed, I told him I was an adventurer, another name for thief, and my sign was of the Ritual. Socucius also noted my Breton heritage, slight build and small features gave it away though most telling was the unusual hair color, a pale violet of sorts. He remarked almost casually that I had no family; a fact I was painfully aware of. I had come from a small town in Cyrodill that had little more than an abbey and some shops—fortunate for me as at least there were people I knew who could account for the strange woman who gave birth to a child on abbey grounds then disappeared in the night. The priestesses told me that my mother was soft-spoken and beautiful, with eyes like the sea after a storm, but afraid. The servants later told me her name was Anais, but knew little else about her. When I when old enough to leave the abbey grounds, I went in search of mother, finding nothing but ill-luck and seedy town named Anvil. The only parents that I knew were the priests and priestesses of the Imperial Cult. I remember the kindness and well-meaning of some, and the depravity and brutality of many others; memories potent enough to drive me away from any temple or cult for a lifetime.

"Take your papers and go see Sellus Gravius," Socucius snapped, waking me from my reverie. The guard unlocked and opened the door behind him and shut it quickly thereafter. Were, they mad? Leaving me a fully stocked room, without a guard was either sheer folly or a test of some sort. I paused for a second, before lifting a silver goblet into my bag, but then I had never hesitated before and would not make a habit of it now. I took as much as I could carry, from their silver to their buckets and found a good stash. Now to see this Imperial with any luck, he's as stupid.

No he was not. Unfortunately, Gravius was not stupid. He was condescending, arrogant, and haughty—typical of an Imperial guard—but he was not stupid. As Knight Errant of the Imperial Legion, he held my destiny in his hand—in a coded package. Gravius informed me why I had been spared. I was to report to Cassius Cosades in Balmora and perform tasks as a Blades Operative—an Imperial spy. I was too afraid to utter anything other than "yes, sera," as he opened the door after instructing me to take the Silt Strider to Balmora.

For the first time in over two years I felt sunshine pour down over my face as a free woman. Later, as I was gathering my "gifts" I had left in a unmarked barrel, one of the items I found was a ring. It was it was beautifully etched and appeared to be enchanted. We lived in a world of magic. From what I had been taught as a child, Morrowind was a place where sorcerers still ruled and was land governed by a trinity of living gods, the Tribunal I think.

As I gathered the stolen items, and marveled how no one noticed their disappearance, I saw a seedy looking tradehouse, with prostitutes and skooma peddlers hanging off the side of the pier. I opened the reinforced door and approached the grim looking man behind the counter. I smiled sweetly at him, hoping I could unload the newly liberated items. Arrille, a High Elf with pale, sallow looking face, smirked as I clumsily landed the bounty on his counter.

"New to Vvardenfell, I see," he asked with a wry grin.

Arrille didn't ask any further questions about the bounty; from that, I could tell this was likely a common occurrence. Did the Imperials have so much that they just replaced what was stolen without so much as a thought? Did they not realize what they possessed?

In the days to come I found there was much to be had for a resourceful thief in Vvardenfell. Many smugglers stored their goods in poorly guarded caverns; though hitting a cavern was a gamble. Some were guarded very well, which inevitably lead to bloodshed. Mostly I didn't think twice about sinking my short sword into someone's stomach; as they certainly thought nothing of sinking one into mine. At odd times, I wondered if I was killing a son's mother or a whole family's provider, though I shut these thoughts out quickly. We were thieves, bandits and smugglers—we knew the life, and the terrible risks of living it.


End file.
